 | From the Hills of Dream |  |
1
FROM THE HILLS OF DREAM
5
Cathair-Sith.
From green to white, from white to green,
I watch the waves that wash between
The Rainbow-Pillars none hath seen.
I watch the waves that wash between
The Rainbow-Pillars none hath seen.
God takes a wind from out the sky:
It spreads its cloud-white wings to fly;
Its time hath come to it to die.
It spreads its cloud-white wings to fly;
Its time hath come to it to die.
God takes a wind from out the pines:
It spreads its green-gloom wings, and shines
Gold-green against the Rainbow-Signs.
It spreads its green-gloom wings, and shines
Gold-green against the Rainbow-Signs.
The weaving of the Sea is made
Green, thus, with sacred pine-tree shade;
White with cloud feathers overlaid.
Green, thus, with sacred pine-tree shade;
White with cloud feathers overlaid.
Forever thus the green is spun,
The white across the surface run:
This is the rune that I have won.
The white across the surface run:
This is the rune that I have won.
This is the rune hath come to me
Out of the mystery of the sea;
When dreaming, where, far-off, may be
The Rainbow-Pillars of Caershee.
Out of the mystery of the sea;
When dreaming, where, far-off, may be
The Rainbow-Pillars of Caershee.
12
In the Shadow.
Oh, she will have the deep dark heart, for all her face is fair;
As deep and dark as though beneath the shadow of her hair:
For in her hair a spirit dwells that no white spirit is,
And hell is in the hopeless heaven of that lost spirit's kiss.
As deep and dark as though beneath the shadow of her hair:
For in her hair a spirit dwells that no white spirit is,
And hell is in the hopeless heaven of that lost spirit's kiss.
She has two men within the palm, the hollow of her hand:
She takes their souls and blows them forth as idle drifted sand:
And one falls back upon her breast that is his quiet home,
And one goes out into the night and is as wind-blown foam.
She takes their souls and blows them forth as idle drifted sand:
And one falls back upon her breast that is his quiet home,
And one goes out into the night and is as wind-blown foam.
And when she sees the sleep of one, ofttimes she rises there
And looks into the outer dark and calleth soft and fair:
And then the lost soul that afar within the dark doth roam
Comes laughing, laughing, laughing, and crying, Home! Home!
And looks into the outer dark and calleth soft and fair:
And then the lost soul that afar within the dark doth roam
Comes laughing, laughing, laughing, and crying, Home! Home!
And is there any home for him whose portion is the night?
And is there any peace for him whose doom is endless flight?
O wild sad bird, O wind-spent bird, O bird upon the wave
There is no home for thee, wild bird, but in the cold sea-grave!
And is there any peace for him whose doom is endless flight?
O wild sad bird, O wind-spent bird, O bird upon the wave
There is no home for thee, wild bird, but in the cold sea-grave!
14
The Green Lady.
Wild fawn, wild fawn,
Hast seen the Green Lady?
The merles are singing,
The ferns are springing,
The little leaves whisper from dusk to dawn—
Green Lady! Green Lady!
The little leaves whisper from dusk to dawn—
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
Hast seen the Green Lady?
The merles are singing,
The ferns are springing,
The little leaves whisper from dusk to dawn—
Green Lady! Green Lady!
The little leaves whisper from dusk to dawn—
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
Wild fawn, wild fawn,
Hast seen the Green Lady?
The bird in the nest,
And the child at the breast,
They open wide eyes as she comes down the dawn—
The bonnie Green Lady,
Bird and child make a whisper of music at dawn,
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
Hast seen the Green Lady?
The bird in the nest,
And the child at the breast,
They open wide eyes as she comes down the dawn—
The bonnie Green Lady,
Bird and child make a whisper of music at dawn,
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
Wild fawn, wild fawn,
Dost thou flee the Green Lady?
Her wild flowers will race thee,
Her sunbeams will chase thee,
Her laughter is ringing aloud in the dawn—
O the Green Lady
With yellow flowers strewing the ways of the dawn,
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
Dost thou flee the Green Lady?
Her wild flowers will race thee,
Her sunbeams will chase thee,
Her laughter is ringing aloud in the dawn—
O the Green Lady
With yellow flowers strewing the ways of the dawn,
Wild fawn, wild fawn!
16
A Milking Song.
(Sweet St Bride.)
Oh, sweet St Bride of the
Yellow, yellow hair:
Paul said, and Peter said,
And all the saints alive or dead
Vowed she had the sweetest head,
Bonnie, sweet St Bride of the
Yellow, yellow hair.
Yellow, yellow hair:
Paul said, and Peter said,
And all the saints alive or dead
Vowed she had the sweetest head,
Bonnie, sweet St Bride of the
Yellow, yellow hair.
White may my milking be,
White as thee:
Thy face is white, thy neck is white,
Thy hands are white, thy feet are white,
For thy sweet soul is shining bright—
O dear to me,
O dear to see
St Bridget white!
White as thee:
Thy face is white, thy neck is white,
Thy hands are white, thy feet are white,
For thy sweet soul is shining bright—
O dear to me,
O dear to see
St Bridget white!
Yellow may my butter be,
Soft, and round:
Thy breasts are sweet,
Soft, round and sweet,
So may my butter be:
So may my butter be, O
Bridget sweet!
Soft, and round:
Thy breasts are sweet,
Soft, round and sweet,
So may my butter be:
So may my butter be, O
Bridget sweet!
Safe thy way is, safe, O
Safe, St Bride:
May my kye come home at even,
None be fallin', none be leavin',
Dusky even, breath-sweet even,
Here, as there, where, O
St Bride, thou
Keepest tryst with God in heav'n,
Seest the angels bow
And souls be shriven—
Here, as there, 'tis breath-sweet even
Far and wide—
Singeth thy little maid
Safe in thy shade
Bridget, Bride!
Safe, St Bride:
May my kye come home at even,
None be fallin', none be leavin',
Dusky even, breath-sweet even,
17
St Bride, thou
Keepest tryst with God in heav'n,
Seest the angels bow
And souls be shriven—
Here, as there, 'tis breath-sweet even
Far and wide—
Singeth thy little maid
Safe in thy shade
Bridget, Bride!
18
A Milking Song.
(Aillsha-bàn.)
Aillsha-bàn, Aillsha-bàn,Give way to the milking!
The Holy St Bridget
Is milking, milking
This self-same even
The white kye in heaven—
Ay, sure, my eyes scan
The green place she is in,
Aillsha-bàn, Aillsha-bàn:
And her hand is so soft
And her crooning is sweet
As my milking is soft
Upon thee, Aillsha-bàn—
As my crooning is sweet
Upon thee, Aillsha-bàn,
Aillsha-bàn—
So soft is my hand and
My crooning so sweet,
Aillsha-bàn!
21
St Bride's Warning.
An O, an' O, St Bride's sweet song 'tis I am hearing, dearie,
Dearie, dearie, dearie, my wee white babe that 's weary,
Weary, weary, weary, with this my womb sae weary,
And Bride's sweet song ye hear it too, and stir and sigh, my dearie!
Dearie, dearie, dearie, my wee white babe that 's weary,
Weary, weary, weary, with this my womb sae weary,
And Bride's sweet song ye hear it too, and stir and sigh, my dearie!
Oh, oh, lennavan-mo,
Wee hands that give me pain and woe:
Pain and woe, but be it so,
'Tis his dear self that now doth grow,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo,
'Tis his dear self one day you 'll know,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo!
Wee hands that give me pain and woe:
Pain and woe, but be it so,
'Tis his dear self that now doth grow,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo,
'Tis his dear self one day you 'll know,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo!
St Bridget dear, the cradle show,
My baby comes, and I must go,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo!
Arone!...Arò!
Arone!...Arò!
My baby comes, and I must go,
Lennavan-mo, lennavan-mo!
Arone!...Arò!
Arone!...Arò!
25
The Rainbow Bird.
In the heart, a bird of sunshine
Singeth a sweet song:
None can do it wrong
Sweet breath of sunshine!
Singeth a sweet song:
None can do it wrong
Sweet breath of sunshine!
What is this sunny bird
With the rainbow-wings,
That singeth of secret things
The heart only hath heard?
With the rainbow-wings,
That singeth of secret things
The heart only hath heard?
I know not: but lo
The sun shines, and far,
In the blue sky a star
Leapeth white as snow.
The sun shines, and far,
In the blue sky a star
Leapeth white as snow.
And when the night-tides flow
And the stars glisten
In the dark, I listen,
And the bird of moonshine
Sings, where erst
The sun-song burst
From the bird of sunshine.
And the stars glisten
In the dark, I listen,
And the bird of moonshine
Sings, where erst
The sun-song burst
From the bird of sunshine.
32
A Summer Air.
O waving trees,
And waving wind,
And waving seas,
And waving mind—
Where, far and wide,
Am I to roam
To find my bride,
To reach my home?
And waving wind,
And waving seas,
And waving mind—
Where, far and wide,
Am I to roam
To find my bride,
To reach my home?
My soul is my bride:
Ah, whither fled?
She hath not died,
Nor am I dead:
But somehow, somewhere,
A song she heard,
And she flashed thro' the air
A sunfire bird.
Ah, whither fled?
She hath not died,
Nor am I dead:
But somehow, somewhere,
A song she heard,
And she flashed thro' the air
A sunfire bird.
My bride, she is
Where the rainbows are;
Sweet, sweet her kiss
Awaits afar:
My goal is where
The sea-waves meet
The Sands of Youth
Stirred by her feet.
Where the rainbows are;
Sweet, sweet her kiss
Awaits afar:
My goal is where
The sea-waves meet
The Sands of Youth
Stirred by her feet.
O waving leaves,
O waving grass,
My heart grieves
That it may not pass.
“Summer is fleet,
Summer is long,”—
I know not, Sweet,
'Tis an empty Song.
O waving grass,
My heart grieves
That it may not pass.
33
Summer is long,”—
I know not, Sweet,
'Tis an empty Song.
Where, far and wide,
Across what foam,
On what strange tide,
Shall I be come?
Meet me, O Bride,
Where, lost, I roam:
Leap to my side
And lead me home!
Across what foam,
On what strange tide,
Shall I be come?
Meet me, O Bride,
Where, lost, I roam:
Leap to my side
And lead me home!
39
The Hollow Land.
Through the Hollow Land I wandered
On the silent wings of Sleep:
And the darkness was about me
As the furtive things that creep
From the shadow of the forest
Round the Shadow still more deep.
On the silent wings of Sleep:
And the darkness was about me
As the furtive things that creep
From the shadow of the forest
Round the Shadow still more deep.
On a dark wing I was lifted
And was borne beyond the Gate,
Past the Portals of two Shadows
Which are the self-same Fate,—
Sleep, clad in dusk, and dreaming,
Death, clad in night, her Mate.
And was borne beyond the Gate,
Past the Portals of two Shadows
Which are the self-same Fate,—
Sleep, clad in dusk, and dreaming,
Death, clad in night, her Mate.
And so thence across the valley
Where unborn things agleam
Shine wanly athwart the gloaming
Beside each undreamed dream,
Till the Hollow Land was entered
By a silent stream.
Where unborn things agleam
Shine wanly athwart the gloaming
Beside each undreamed dream,
Till the Hollow Land was entered
By a silent stream.
The River of Oblivion
It was that wended there,
Till lost in the immensity
Of that unwinnowed air:
Yet onward, and as for ever,
My soul was borne there.
It was that wended there,
Till lost in the immensity
Of that unwinnowed air:
Yet onward, and as for ever,
My soul was borne there.
O soul, that thing which was uttered,
O soul, that thing which thou saw,
What memory hast thou of either
Though thrilling still with the awe—
Not more than of harvest lingers
In wind-whirled straw!
O soul, that thing which thou saw,
What memory hast thou of either
Though thrilling still with the awe—
Not more than of harvest lingers
In wind-whirled straw!
40
Yet, soul, in the shadowy silence
That clothes thee round about,
Thou knowest thou viewed vast armies
In fierce bewildered rout,
And, 'mid the seething clamour,
Heard, as a blast, thy shout!
That clothes thee round about,
Thou knowest thou viewed vast armies
In fierce bewildered rout,
And, 'mid the seething clamour,
Heard, as a blast, thy shout!
O soul, wast thou a victor
Or led'st thou a failing host:
Or were thy banners flying
Along a dismal coast:
Wert thou crown'd with life, O spirit,
Or crown'd with death, poor ghost?
Or led'st thou a failing host:
Or were thy banners flying
Along a dismal coast:
Wert thou crown'd with life, O spirit,
Or crown'd with death, poor ghost?
42
The Sorrow of Delight.
Till death be filled with darkness
And life be filled with light,
The Sorrow of ancient sorrows
Shall be the sorrow of Night:
But then the Sorrow of Sorrows
Shall be the Sorrow of Delight.
And life be filled with light,
The Sorrow of ancient sorrows
Shall be the sorrow of Night:
But then the Sorrow of Sorrows
Shall be the Sorrow of Delight.
Heart's-joy must fade with sorrow,
For both are sprung from clay:
But the Joy that is one with Sorrow,
Treads an immortal way:
Each hath in fee To-morrow,
And their soul is Yesterday.
For both are sprung from clay:
But the Joy that is one with Sorrow,
Treads an immortal way:
Each hath in fee To-morrow,
And their soul is Yesterday.
Joy that is clothed with shadow
Is the joy that is not dead:
For the joy that is clothed with the rainbow
Shall with the bow be sped:
Where the Sun spends his fires is she,
And where the Stars are led.
Is the joy that is not dead:
For the joy that is clothed with the rainbow
Shall with the bow be sped:
Where the Sun spends his fires is she,
And where the Stars are led.
44
The Stone of Sorrow.
Wearily dawns the morning o'er the world.
The sea, muttering, moans his primeval pain.
The brooding mists upon the brooding hills are lain;
The banners of the wild wandering mountain-winds are furled:
Wearily, wearily, dawns the morning o'er the world.
The sea, muttering, moans his primeval pain.
The brooding mists upon the brooding hills are lain;
The banners of the wild wandering mountain-winds are furled:
Wearily, wearily, dawns the morning o'er the world.
O wearily dawns this morning of the world.
Beautiful spirit, whither hast thou fled?
They tell me thou art here no more, that thou art dead:
That shall not be till God afar the sun and stars hath whirled,
And saith, So sets the last wild dawn of any world.
Beautiful spirit, whither hast thou fled?
They tell me thou art here no more, that thou art dead:
That shall not be till God afar the sun and stars hath whirled,
And saith, So sets the last wild dawn of any world.
| From the Hills of Dream | |